


auld lang sigh

by Liyha



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, Jamil is a disaster and Ayer isn't much better, crew shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 15:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liyha/pseuds/Liyha
Summary: Ayer receives an unexpected "visit" on Christmas Eve.





	auld lang sigh

**Author's Note:**

> written for @tamocch over at twitter for GBF secret santa 2018! you have no idea how happy I was when I saw that you wished for Ayer/Jamil stuff, not only do you have great taste but also hey, same hat. I haven’t written GBF-related stuff in ages, and it’s my first time mentioning Eustace in any of my writings, but I hope this will be to your liking! merry christmas, hope you’ll enjoy it!
> 
> (also for some reason I thought there were windows in the rooms of the Grandcypher.) (guess there are, the inside of the ship seems pretty well lit according to the backgrounds...)

Ayer has to admit: he’s a heavy sleeper.

No matter the place, no matter the time, he’d often find himself (for some reason) able to fall asleep in a matter of minutes, even in the most dreary of atmospheres. And it was weird – because back when he was a kid, it wasn’t exactly the case. There was always something to keep him awake, whether it was the dark of the night or the hollow sounds of the wind blowing through the long, long hallways of his house; or when he had been the prey of nightmares the night before, needing his sister to calm him down and stay by his side until he finally drifted off, hopefully not waking up until rays of sunlight gently seeped through the curtains of his room.

Now, things are kind of different.

Now, he just needs to close his eyes, and his mind will almost instantly fade into unconsciousness, for as long as he wishes. He doesn’t exactly know when this started, to be fair—though he _might_ have a hint, but he really doesn’t want to think about it—but he has to admit that it’s rather convenient, most of the time. Given how constantly noisy the Grandcypher and its crew members were, his ability to suddenly black out proved useful in those circumstances. Other times...eh, maybe he should skip this part.

(Falling asleep in a shady back alley after a quick detour by one of the town’s fight clubs probably wasn’t the brightest idea he had. Especially when he was the winner and the other contestants were pissed after he publicly taunted them.)

But tonight, that wasn’t the problem. On the contrary.  
Tonight, Ayer was purely and simply unable to fall asleep. And he had no idea why.

He had been tossing and turning on his bed for more than an hour now, and at no moment had he been able to nod off. His day hadn’t been particularly eventful, aside from a few rounds of practice with Feather, who was always so eager—too eager—to land a punch or two, so maybe it was about the lack of exercise, but...it didn’t felt exactly right.

Right here, right now, something doesn’t feel right, anyway.  
And _maybe_ that has something to do with the fact that, in the middle of the night, his window suddenly opens.

It happens almost without a sound and Ayer remains stunned for a brief second, thinking he might have been hearing things, or maybe hallucinating – though it doesn’t take long for something in him to start burning, and his body to move through sheer defense instinct. As weird as half of the crew of this ship is, no one in here would suddenly break into one of the rooms through the window (and how did he even do this, small as they are?) while everyone’s asleep, in the shadiest way possible. Each of his limbs tense as he swiftly gets into a battle stance, and—

“What the hell.”

...actually, disregard everything he said. Someone in this primalforsaken crew would actually break into a room at night. Given who stands before him at this very moment, he isn’t exactly surprised, neither by the act itself, or by how silent it was. But still.

“Jamil, what the hell are you doing.”

His eyes meet with those of the young assassin, who appears just as surprised as him, for some reason. One step after the other, Jamil slowly walks further into the room, his gaze as serious as ever – but even though Ayer isn’t the best person to catch on people’s emotions, he can tell from his posture that his fellow crew member feels...slightly embarrassed.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake at this hour, Ayer.”  
“Me neither, but that doesn’t tell me what you’re doing in my room right now.”  
  
In front of him, Jamil bows in apology. Well, Jamil was always very formal, even more so with the captain, and he guesses that it’s definitely normal to be so when you do something inappropriate, _like intruding in someone’s room_.

“I believe it’s of no use to hide it from you any longer, so I will explain. I am...on a mission for tonight. Captain’s orders.”

Brow furrowing, the youth remains staring at him for an instant. A mission? What kind of mission did the captain give him for an assassin of all people to be going from room to room at night on December 24th—

...oh, come on. This can’t be real.

He almost feels a groan bubble up in the back of his throat, but manages to hold it back. It’s late, and this situation is already awkward enough to just make it worse. Instead, a sigh is what comes out of his mouth, as tension gradually leaves his body and is replaced by annoyance.

“So what you’re implying is that captain asked you to play Santa this year.”  
“That’s correct.”

The seriousness on his crewmate’s face almost makes him want to die. This time, he can’t repress the frustration, and slams his hand against his forehead. Yet another of captain’s ridiculous ideas…who still believes in Santa, anyway? To be fair, there were indeed a couple of kids in the crew (and he still doesn’t know why actual kids were traveling with them) but...given the captain’s personality, this clearly wasn’t meant only for the youngest members. Ayer clicks his tongue – he stopped believing in Santa since long ago now. He just...wasn’t a child anymore. He didn’t have time for that kind of things, not in the new world he had discovered and strived to be a part of. _The only world where he actually felt alive_.

Suddenly, Jamil’s voice takes him away from his inner ramblings.

“Ayer, I want to ask you something.”

The fighter looks up, slightly shaking his head as if to drive the memories of his former life away. Crossing his arms, he nods, and waits for the young assassin to resume.

“Now that you are aware of my mission, I’m afraid I’m not able to simply leave you be.”  
“What do you mean?” Ayer retorts, a slight feeling of dread rising up inside him.  
“I want you to help me in my task.”

Ayer freezes. Did Jamil seriously ask him to go with him and play Santa for the entire Grandcypher? There’s no way he was going to do this, right. He wasn’t going to stay up all night and swing from room to room just for that.Yet, he had the feeling that Jamil wasn’t going to let him escape that easily. And...there was something else that bothered him.

“...Jamil, tell me who’s next on your list.”  
“Miss Jessica, I believe.”  


...actually, maybe he is going to say yes. And that wasn’t even because he felt weird about someone entering his sister’s room at nearly midnight, but mostly because if she spotted a stranger breaking into her room, she would probably destroy him on the spot.

Yeah, maybe tagging along was the best. For Jamil’s safety.

***

Real talk. _How much people is there aboard this damned ship_?

Even though he put his initial reluctance aside, Ayer now clearly regretted saying yes. Not only sleepiness was starting to get to him, but it was also _freezing out there_ , and he wasn’t sure he really enjoyed those constant trips back and forth on the main deck.

By the time they reached the fourteenth person on their list, he had snapped, fed with having to play tightrope walkers to get the gifts inside each room, and convinced Jamil to proceed more safely. The thrill of near-death was still something that sent shivers down his spine; but first of all, it wasn’t the same outside of a fight – and honestly? He wouldn’t accept dying while playing Santa for a crew of fools.

And even when they had found a way to enter everyone’s rooms without putting themselves in danger, he realized that the inside of the rooms _themselves_ were the danger. While a handful of them were perfectly calm sleepers—his sight had caught the sleeping silhouettes of Katalina, Albert and Selfira, all in deep slumber—some others were a little more...active, for the lack of a better word. Feather was seemingly fighting against his own blankets, Lunalu was mumblings things he just didn’t want to think about, and Clarisse...let’s just say that if not for Jamil’s stealth skills, they would’ve probably made this entire wing of the ship blow up. Guess he had something to learn from him. Maybe he should ask him more about this. If that could help him improve his fighting style, it was worth trying it out.

 _Huh._ He pauses an instant, in the midst of carrying one of the last presents he had to deliver. They were almost done with their so-called “mission”, and only a couple of gifts now remained on the main deck of the Grandcypher. But something’s just...keeping his mind away from his task. He didn’t like to admit it, but he had been dragged into this mess more easily than he’d thought. Out of...well, genuine worry for someone else, that wasn’t his sister or the captain, who was more or less the only ones he would voluntarily talk to sometimes. He supposed that Siegfried and Seofon counted too, in some sort of weird, roundabout way. More Siegfried than Seofon though, that was for sure. Though it was still something he didn’t like to touch upon, the events of last summer still remained fresh on his mind – and what was going on now, with Jamil, felt rather similar.

Maybe things had finally started to change.

The sound of approaching footsteps snatches him away from his thoughts, and Ayer turns around, shoving away his silent concerns to focus again on the task at hand—only to meet with...someone that isn’t the one he was waiting for. Instead of the young assassin, he finds himself face to face with a tall, white-haired erune, shotgun set upon his shoulder. Ayer’s gaze lands upon it, a bit too aware of what might have happened if Eustace hadn’t approached him so naturally.

“Didn’t think you were going to be awake at this hour. No one else is,” he utters, maybe in hopes to lighten up the atmosphere.  
“Looks like my hearing wasn’t playing tricks on me. You’re lucky it’s just you and your assassin friend, kid.”  
“We’re not friends, as far as I’m concerned.”  
“Not the point. Just...try to be quieter. Some of us here like peace and silence...and some others are light sleepers.”

He doesn’t mention anyone, but Ayer has a faint feeling he’s talking about one of his associates. He does recall that one girl with the blue armor looking exhausted, too. Maybe that was related. Without another word, Eustace walks past him, not seeming to care much about what he and Jamil were doing, and visibly intent on going back to his room after his warning. At once, something clicks within the youth’s head—and he stops him, just for a little while longer.

“Hey, Eustace. You share your room with that big draph guy, right?”  
“Vaseraga, yes.”

Grabbing two of the presents still on the deck, he tosses the both of them towards the erune, who catches them without a sweat.

“These are for you. Since you saw this, I guess I can just hand it to you. One bird with two stones, or something.”  
“...thank you, I suppose.”

Turning around, Eustace finally leaves, presents in hand – and soon disappears behind one of the doors of the airship.

***

What is probably the longest sigh he has ever produced in his life escapes from his lips. Done. That thing was finally _over_. Jamil looked as serious as ever, but strangely, there was something in his eyes that told the fighter that he felt proud. Meanwhile, Ayer was just...dead tired. All he hoped for was to get this over with, crash on his bed, and not wake up before noon.

“It looks like we’ve completed our mission. Thank you for your help, Ayer. I’m sorry I had to drag you along with me,” the assassin says, an apologetic tone to his voice.  
“Yeah, no kidding. I’m just...going to go back to bed, ok.”  
“There’s just one present missing...captain hasn’t received any.”

His shoulders drop with exasperation – before he realizes that, actually, Jamil has a point. Inside of him, something tugs: it just...wouldn’t be fair, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t be fair if the captain went all that way to get a present for everyone in the crew, and not get any in return. He exhales—he’s already regretting what he is going to say, but...this is probably the way things should go.

“Where’s the captain right now?” he asks.  
“Sleeping. They’ve been setting up everything for today, and they want to wake up early tomorrow to make dinner for everyone.”  
“Huh…you should go get some sleep yourself. I’ll take care of this.”  
“Are you certain you—”  
“Yeah. Now go.”  
“Understood. Thank you again, Ayer.”  


Jamil leaves as fast as one would expect from an assassin to do so—disappearing in the shadows of the night. The fighter groans, his hand moving up to scratch the back of his head.

“When will these guys stop being so damn annoying…”

***

The door to the captain’s room opens slowly, nearly without a sound save for the slight creaking of wood. It’s about damn time someone oiled the doors of this airship, honestly. Ayer silently slides into the interstice of the door, leaving it open to leave as discreetly as possible, once his task finished. He walks past Lyria’s bed, noticing as he does that she appears to be _munching on her covers_ , before stopping next to the captain’s. As expected, they’re fast asleep, with Vyrn tucked right next to them. So far so good, he tells himself. Taking out a strangely well-wrapped rectangle-shaped present from one of his pocket, the fighter simply lays it down on the nearest table, before exiting the room, as carefully as he entered it. Before closing the door behind him, he looks over his shoulder one last time – and sees the captain curling into a ball, pulling Vyrn closer, a smile on their face.What a troublesome captain this crew has.

After a few moments of walking, he rejoins his room at last – and without even taking time to change clothes, he merely crashes on the mattress, sleep finally getting to him, eyelids jolting back open each time they almost close on their own.

“That captain...they did say they liked books, huh. Surely...that would make a good enough present, right…”

His eyes eventually close—and he falls into the deepest of slumbers, not waking up until the first rays of the morning sunlight peek through the windows of the ship.


End file.
